


safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils

by maranhig



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, Self-Harm, delusions of grandeur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:57:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3135293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maranhig/pseuds/maranhig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>saw the darkest hearts of men and i saw myself starin' back again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils

**Author's Note:**

> not much to say about this, really. just something i had to get off my chest.  
> title from pet's a perfect circle.

this is not a true story.

* * *

when i slash my thighs open with scissors, sometimes i pretend i'm tearing your face, the face you let a woman other than my mother trace with her eyes and hands and lips.

i used to think i hated you, but then i realized i only hated how much of you has ended up in me: your laziness, your quick temper, your penchant for broken promises.

your younger sister got knocked up twice by the same no-good asshole when she was in college. you always tell me that i got my broad build, my daredevil attitude, and my laugh from her. you hate how we laugh, like inhibitions don't exist in our dictionary and even if the world ended we'd still find the whole thing ridiculously fucking funny.

the last time i confiscated your pack of marlboro menthol, i didn't deposit the contents down a garbage bin but into my lungs. i smoked the whole thing to try and understand what it is that keeps pulling you back to it, why your family's hearts are worthless compared to nicotine.

it's pathetic that i still use your shortcomings to justify my fuckedupness, that i still think i can't deny my genetic code for self-destruction. because i may look like my mother but underneath i'm all you, and we both love placing the blame on everyone but ourselves.

i don't hate you. i promise i don't hate you.

* * *

it used to be that you loved every laugh and wondrous squeal of elation i would utter. it used to be that you'd do anything to make me smile.

now whenever i find something i enjoy and want to scream my love out from rooftops, you tell me to keep it down. you who took away my joy, you who suck the marrow out of my mother's smile, you dare to tell me that i can't make a sound other than heartbreak.

you dare.

i'm angry at everyone. at you for incubating this cancer, at mother for running miles and miles away from everything without moving an inch. at the world for continuously giving shit to people who don't deserve it. at me, for being the worst cliché, fuckedup little girl with daddy issues who thinks she's so cool and untouchable. i want to carve this mess out of me with spoons, scissors, ballpoint pens, anything to bring me back to the way i used to be.

anything to be anyone but me.

* * *

when the ground opens up under your feet it's not with a blast of noise and hellfire it's silent like the cracks reemerging on the faith you though you'd always hold in the most immovable things but it turns out your faith has been pretty fucking misplaced and these things are not immovable they slip a knife between your lungs as easily as you take scissors to your thighs and they tell you to keep breathing eVERYTHING'S FINE SWEETIE I PROMISE WELL THESE ARE ALL LIES and i don't know anymore am i going insane please tell me this at least this would be all in my head and not real please


End file.
